Disastrous Traditions
by Random Ravenclaw91
Summary: It’s Lucius and Narcissa’s first Christmas as a married couple, and Lucius learns of his wife’s strange obsession: decorating on Christmas Eve without magic. A little deception, a fall, a fire, and a kiss later, Lucius can hardly deny that he’s enjoyed th


**Author's Notes:**

_Thanks to my beta, Hannah/hvic. This wasa challenge fic written for MNFF, and my first attempt at Lucius/Narcissa! Please review!_

I rolled my eyes as I watched her flit about the room, putting numerous decorations up to give the house a more "festive" feel.

I didn't know why she insisted on decorating the manor herself when she had a house-elf to do that for her. She had started only moments ago.

"Cissa, just make the elf do it," I said dismissively, lowering my paper slightly to look at her.

She was standing in front of the mantel and turned slowly to face me, her head tilted slightly. Her blue eyes were smiling, but her face was stern. "Lucius, I've always decorated the house on Christmas Eve. Just because we're married now" –she couldn't prevent herself from smiling slightly as she said those words– "does not mean that I'm going to stop and allow the house-elf to do something that I enjoy so much."

I rolled my eyes again, far more amused than I would ever have admitted or shown. She smiled knowingly before turning around. I flicked the paper back up to block her from view.

Honestly, she could be insufferable sometimes. We had a perfectly good elf, and who could _possibly_ enjoy putting up bloody decorations anyway!

I heard her movements halt, and I reluctantly lowered the newspaper, realising that I hadn't read a sentence since she started on this escapade.

She was trying to reach to hang holly on one of the wall sconces like a Muggle.

"Why aren't you using a wand?" I snapped.

"I can't reach," was all she said.

I impatiently flicked my wand, watching the holly climb to its proper place. "There," I snapped, thrusting the paper in front of my face again and continued to read.

I heard her stop moving again, so I glanced up. I don't know why I looked–I certainly wasn't _interested_. She was my wife, though, after all. I suppose I was paying so much attention because husbands are expected to do such things.

"Let me guess: you can't reach?" I suggested silkily.

She turned toward me, this time standing in a doorway. "No, I can't."

My eyes unconsciously fell to her hand. She was clutching a small bunch of mistletoe.

Did she honestly think I would give in that easily? She couldn't seduce me into helping her decorate the manor when it obviously needed no decorations. Places such as this held a presence that could never be improved with a few ridiculous plants.

"Your wand is in your pocket, Cissa. You could use it or you could get the house-elf." I went back to reading about the financial ruin of the wizarding world–much more interesting, let me assure you.

For the next quarter of an hour, all I heard were calls for help from my wife. Several spells later–needless to say–I was very frustrated.

"Do you really want me to help that much?" I finally snapped, throwing the _Prophet_ to the ground.

"Not if you don't want to help, darling," she answered, smiling slightly, her eyes so obviously laughing at me.

"Fine then, I won't."

Her smile fell a little, but she turned away quickly, not wanting to show me the disappointment that must have been etched on her face.

I sighed silently. Maybe it would be better if I did help… It was Christmas Eve after all. Such an occasion should be more important to a newlywed couple. Perhaps reading the newspaper wasn't the fairest thing in the world.

Still, decorating seemed ridiculous. Why did women make all of these stupid, pointless things seem far more important than they really were?

I really wasn't giving in… Even if I did want to spend time with my wife instead of just pushing her away.

"Do you want to do something, Cissa? Take a walk, perhaps?" I suggested softly, finally walking over to her.

"This is what I'm doing tonight, Lucius," she said firmly. "If you don't want to help, then all you'll have for company over the next few hours will be the paper."

I raised an eyebrow at her. She usually didn't come out and say things like that. She was normally much sneakier about getting her way. She was a Slytherin, after all.

Her arms folded, but I said nothing.

"Well, which is it?"

I flicked my wand in response, straightening one of the gold chains that was wrapped around the (much as I hated to admit it) dignified-looking tree.

She grinned. I noticed for the first time that she wasn't wearing any of her usual cosmetics, and that her hair was piled carelessly into a bun, with many of the strands falling out.

Not willing to say out loud that she looked even more beautiful than usual, I asked, "What are you planning on doing now?"

She smiled knowingly–if she thought I actually wanted to help her, she was sorely mistaken–and said, "We're decorating the tree, of course."

"Isn't it done?" I asked, confused. After all, there was a gold chain wrapped around it. What else was there? It looked perfectly fine.

"We need lights," she explained.

"Lights?"

"Candles," she clarified further, showing me a tiny candle with the image of a flame above it. The flame would never burn the tree or anyone who touched it.

I nodded my head. They might look acceptable on the tree. "Where did you get those?"

"They were in your attic," she said, laughing lightly. "Apparently they've been in the Malfoy family for generations."

"When were you searching the attic?"

"When you were… 'out' yesterday," she answered, as always putting all references to my being a Death Eater into a euphemism. She respected my status as a Death Eater, but she had a difficult time voicing it.

I nodded again and then asked, "How do you attach these to the tree?"

She held up a small candle holder with a clamp on the bottom.

"Ingenious," I admitted, examining the device.

"Having fun yet?" she teased, looking smug.

I glared at her, but that only caused her to laugh. "Come on!" she ordered, pulling me to the tree. She started to put the candles on, and I could only assume that I was expected to follow suit.

Well, she might be willing to do things without magic, but I certainly wasn't. I pulled out my wand, using it to place a holder and a candle on the tree.

"Lucius!" she cried, scandalised. "You can't use magic!"

"Why the bloody hell not?" I demanded.

She pursed her lips and folded her arms again. "I wouldn't protest on any other day, but I've never used magic while decorating on Christmas Eve unless absolutely necessary. All I'm asking is for you to respect that."

"But why can't _I_ use it?"

I again looked at her hair and wondered if that was why her appearance was so different than usual. Perhaps she had prevented herself from using magic in all areas of her life tonight. Come to think of it, I hadn't even noticed if she were carrying her wand.

She gave me that look that could quite possibly make me do anything. "Please?" she asked, her eyes large and far more sad than I knew she was feeling. She was trying to trick me again, wasn't she?

"Fine," I agreed reluctantly.

I put the candle holders on the tree manually, scratching my hands all the while–which, need I add, could so easily have been prevented if I had used a wand.

She stepped back as the last candle was hung, and nodded, pleased with the results. "It looks wonderful, doesn't it?"

I glared at the tree, unwilling to admit that the candles did have a pleasing effect. As always, she just smiled. Why did she always seem to know how I really felt about things?

"Now, we just need to put the star on!" She pulled a large golden star out of one of the boxes. I took it from her, examining it. It appeared to be pure gold, with abstract carvings etched into it. It was hollow inside, and light from yet another magical candle poured from it. I handed it back to her without saying anything.

"It's lovely, isn't it? Apparently Malfoys do like to decorate for Christmas, Lucius."

"Except me," I maintained, pulling out my wand.

"What are you doing?" she demanded.

"Well, you can't possibly reach the top of the tree. I could barely reach to put the candles up there."

"Then I'll get a chair." Her voice warned me not to put the star up while she was gone.

I rolled my eyes for what seemed the hundredth time that night and leaned against the wall, waiting.

She came bustling back, pulling a dining room chair, her hair even more messy than it had been five minutes before.

I went to help her with the chair. It was heavier than I had realised. I put it next to the tree, the back resting against the branches.

"I still don't see why you can't just use a Levitation Charm," I muttered.

She glared at me, pulled off her slippers, and stood on the chair. It was still hard for her to reach. (In truth, I had put on the top row of candles with magic when she wasn't looking. That tree was _tall_.)

She pulled the top of the tree towards her with one hand, positioning the star with the other. She was standing precariously on her toes, and I unconsciously drifted toward her, worried.

With a sharp intake of breath, I watched the tree hit the back of the chair, knocking it over, and then fall the opposite way.

Not even stopping to think, I caught Cissa just as she was falling. I collapsed to the ground, with my wife safe in my arms.

"What happened?" I breathed. "You knocked it over?"

She got up, still shaky. "I didn't knock it over. It fell."

I stood up next to her. "Are you all right?" I asked, looking at her, but her concentration was obviously on something else.

"Do you smell that?"

"Smell what?"

But only a second after I asked, the scent of something burning came to me. "I thought those candles wouldn't burn anything!" I made my way to the tree and righted it.

She pulled her wand out of her pocket–I knew she had it with her!–and put out the fire that was rapidly burning one of the age-old, priceless rugs. "Apparently your ancestors thought it would be amusing to put a real candle in with all the magical ones."

"How hilarious," I commented dryly, taking out my own wand and securing the tree magically to ensure that it wouldn't fall again.

She sat on the couch as I straightened the golden chain and a few of the candles.

Once I'd finished, I sat next to her. "How about," I suggested, "we start a new tradition tonight. We'll always put the star on top of the tree by magic. It'll ensure we don't destroy any other family heirlooms." I levitated the star to the top of the tree without setting anything on fire.

She couldn't help but laugh softly. "That rug was hideous anyway. You should be thanking me." I smiled at her, which caused her to say triumphantly, "See! You did have a good time!"

"I most certainly did not."

She smiled and curled up next to me, saying, "Why don't we save the rest of the decorating for tomorrow?"

"Fine with me," I murmured as her head rested on my shoulder. I pulled her hair-tie out gently, since half of her hair was already down anyway.

She grinned at me, and leaned up, kissing me softly.

"Thanks, darling," she yawned as she pulled away.

"For what?"

"For helping me, of course." She smiled in that knowing way again. If she thought I had a good time, she was wrong. Definitely wrong.

The whole experience had been terrible.

But I couldn't help but smile at her as she fell asleep.


End file.
